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by marinablack99



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Friendship/Love, Partnership, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3641085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinablack99/pseuds/marinablack99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Murphy finds his way to the City of Light. It's everything he hoped it would be...and more.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of adding some of my completed Fanfiction.net works to AO3. This was originally written and posted on 2/14/15 and takes place after Rubicon. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Pain hammered through John Murphy's skull, mimicking the beat of his heart. His lips were dry and cracked from lack of water and a short time ago, had begun to bleed. Murphy wasn't exactly sure if that was why his entire mouth tasted like metal or if the inevitability of death was growing closer…

Two days of trudging through mustard colored sand without any sustenance had taken its toll. Murphy burned during the day and froze at night. Of the six who had chosen to continue the journey to the City of Light, two had perished—one was ripped limb from limb by a bizarre sand monster, the other had died in his sleep from heat stroke. John Murphy was well aware he was living on borrowed time.

A rumbling from deep below his feet halted him where he stood. Murphy turned abruptly to warn the others but he found himself completely alone. There was no Jaha, no Harris or Michelson…

The next thing Murphy knew, he was falling. Down, down, down, he plummeted deep into the heart of the Earth. Screwing his eyes shut, John Murphy prepared once and for all to embrace the void. Too many times he had been damned to hell; now it was time to see what the place was really like. Murphy braced for bone-crushing impact that never came. His body folded in half as he fell bottom first into a web made of soft rope. He gripped tightly, breathing raggedly as he remained captured like a helpless bug awaiting the spider to eat him alive…

"Took you long enough," A sweetly feminine voice echoed through the caves. Emori leaned against the cavernous opening to a rocky tunnel. "Welcome to the City of Light…"

Squinting up at the familiar form, Murphy scoffed. He could hardly see a thing. "It's dark as hell in here," Murphy groused. Weakness affected him as he tried in vain to claw his way up to where Emori stood. Every time he pushed himself up, he ending up falling back onto the netting. The fourth time he attempted it, Emori reached down to catch him when he stumbled. He already knew she was strong—the woman packed one  _hell_  of a punch—but he had no idea she could manage to shoulder his weight while climbing up a rocky embankment.

Emori grunted slightly and pulled Murphy against her, muttering curses in her native tongue. For a man so slim, he managed to weigh her down more than she'd anticipated. Murphy glanced at her and she sighed. "My chamber is just a little further. I have food and water there." Half-dragging Murphy the rest of the way, Emori pushed open the door and deposited him onto a chair. There was a small alcove dug into the rock wall and she removed the same metal canteen he'd offered to her several days ago. "Drink," She urged.

Swiping his container from her hand, Murphy took several sips and gasped at the pleasure of the ice cold water sliding down his throat. His dark hair was slick and matted with sweat and sand, his clothes were torn and his body tattered. Emori gently removed his jacket which caused Murphy to glower at her, "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

Catching her wrists before she could undo the zipper on his sweatshirt, Murphy frowned. "You screwed me over, Emori." He watched hurt zip across her features and instinctively loosened his grasp on her…but the pained expression remained etched on her face. "You stole our water, our weapons…you left us to  _die_ ," He accused. "You left  _me_  to die."

Emori took a step back, her body tensing. "I was doing you a favor, John. You would not have been permitted into the City of Light with those kind of weapons."

"What about food and water? Would they have let me in with the basic things I need to live?" Murphy fired back. He stood, dwarfing Emori as he closed the distance she put between them. Getting up so quickly was not a good idea, Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to make the room stop spinning. He leaned against the wall to steady himself.

"It is the way of my people," Emori's voice was softer now. "If it were up to the King, all of you would have been slaughtered. I  _protected_  you…" Sensing Murphy's wavering strength, she urged him to sit again but this time, she settled him down on her pallet. "You have had a difficult journey, John. Rest now."

If he were not so exhausted, Murphy would never have entertained the idea…but Emori was pulling a blanket up over his shoulders and fluffing the pillow beneath his head. Despite his very best effort, Murphy's eyes were fluttering closed. "Don't think this means you're forgiven…" He murmured sleepily. If Emori answered, Murphy didn't hear it…darkness crushed him and he descended into the depths of a deep, dreamless sleep.

When finally he began to claw his way back to consciousness, Murphy smelled the fragrance of lemon and a heady aroma he couldn't quite place. Emori was leaning over a fire, sweat beaded over her brow as she used a metal implement to poke at something cooking there. Murphy eased off the pallet and pushed himself to standing. It was oddly chilly in this little room and he edged toward the fire, seeking warmth.

Emori glanced at Murphy warily as he drew closer to her. She was poised to fight, if necessary, but there was no malice in his features; though his face seemed permanently drawn into a frown. She cleared her throat to break the tension between them. "I have obtained clean clothes for you and heated water for a bath. Please, help yourself to both."

A bath sounded amazing after the last few days of wandering in the desert. There was a large tub in the corner of the room that was in no way private. Murphy wasn't the modest type, but he also didn't want to strip down in front of Emori. He debated back and forth the pros and cons of getting into the bath. His skin was tight from sweat drying there and his hair was full of sand; he desperately ached to soak for a good long time. Emori remained huddled over the fire as she met his gaze unabashedly, "The water is getting cold, John."

"Fine…" Murphy muttered. Stalking over to the tub, he unzipped his hoodie and peeled the grey t-shirt over his head. His chest and back were a mess of tangled scars, remnants of the torture the Grounders had inflicted upon him during his time with them. Murphy undid the button on his pants and slid them down his legs along with his boxers. Sneaking a peek at Emori, he grinned predatorily when he caught her staring. "See something you like, sweetheart?"

Heat suffused Emori's cheeks as she averted her eyes. "You are mistaken. I-" She wracked her brain for a suitable lie and came up empty, "I simply wished to make sure you were strong enough to get into the tub on your own."

"Right," Murphy replied sarcastically. Shaking his head, he stepped into the tub and slid a little bit. Water splashed over the side and he cursed at his own clumsiness. He could have sworn he heard Emori snickering but when he peered over at her, she was back to poking at whatever smelled so delightful. The heat of the water was a blessed relief until his skin began to sting. Murphy hissed in pain, "What the hell is in here?"

"Lemon," Emori explained. "We do not have much medicine here so we use what we can to help prevent infection. I was worried you might have wounds. The lemon will clean them and protect you so you do not become ill." She dug through her bag until she found a round container. "When you are finished bathing, I have some salve that you can put on your skin to soothe it."

"Wish you would've warned me," Murphy groused, though he couldn't bring himself to be angry. Emori's intention was not to harm him…not  _this_  time, anyway. Dunking his head beneath the water, Murphy held his hands over his eyes to protect them. He found a bar of soap sitting beside the tub and scrubbed the dirt away. No doubt it would be years before he purged all of the sand from his body, but he'd gotten a ton of it out anyway. Emori left a neatly folded towel beside the new clothes and Murphy carefully dried himself off before changing into a clean pair of pants. For now, he left his shirt off so it wouldn't get too damp.

Skin still stinging fiercely, Murphy helped himself to the lotion that Emori offered to him. It was stickier than he thought it would be but very cooling. He settled down beside the fire, watching her intently. His stomach growled loudly before he had a chance to speak. Emori laughed softly and Murphy found himself joining in. "I guess I don't need to tell you I'm hungry."

"There is some jerky and fruit in my bag, help yourself. I have gone to the garden and harvested some  _carya_. It is time-consuming to roast them but they are quite a treat…I believe I owe you that much at least," Emori's voice wavered. "I thought about what you said earlier and—"

"Forget what I said. I was being a dick," Murphy interrupted. "You were doing what you were told. I may not speak Grounder but I can tell when someone is being ordered to do something." He removed a small nectarine and the jerky from Emori's bag, digging in hungrily. The sweetness of the fruit was delightful and he washed it down with more of the ice cold water. By the time he finished his meal, Murphy was already feeling stronger. "So…what's the deal with this place?" Murphy pressed. "You can't expect me to believe this underground labyrinth of caves is the "City of Light" we've been searching for…"

Emori chuckled low in her throat. "I am sorry you are disappointed, John, but this  _is_  it." She removed the pan from the fire and set it aside to cool. "The Light here is not from the sun but from the people who have made their home here. You see…there is a ruling in this land, a decree passed down from generation to generation." Resting her hands on her knees, she stared down at the elongated, twisted hand that set her apart from the others. "If a child is born with a deformity such as mine, it is left out to be reclaimed by the Earth." She licked her lips. "The only way to cleanse the bloodline is to make sure that those of us who are tainted never breed."

Murphy gritted his teeth, "There's nothing  _wrong_  with you, Emori. So your hand is a little fucked up, that doesn't mean you deserve to die!"

A sad smile slid over Emori's features. "My mother felt the same way…to save my life, she fled from my father and came to the desert in search of the City." She kept her eyes cast down. "It was the heat of the summer and the weather more brutal than it is now. After only a day, she could no longer feed me. She was severely weakened from giving birth and, in her haste to flee the village, was not able to bring the supplies we needed. She perished in the desert…"

"But you survived," Murphy's voice was soft, not wanting to push Emori too far. Even in the darkness of the cavern, he could see tears shimmering in her dark eyes.

"The King was a young man then. He was out with a raiding party when they happened upon my mother and I. She used her last breath to beg him to take me in and protect me…" Emori abruptly stood, unwilling to reveal the true depth of her emotion. "He brought me here, to the City of Light. The people here accepted me as their own and he raised me as his own daughter. My Father is kind and generous but he does not take well to strangers…the others you were traveling with were executed under his authority."

Silence hung between them for a long time. Murphy licked his lips, "Why aren't I dead then?" Emori turned away from him and he grabbed her by the shoulders, " _Emori_?"

"I begged for your life…" Emori wrenched out of his grasp. "You are different from the rest, John Murphy. I could not see you slaughtered!"

Powerful emotion sung in Murphy's veins and filled up the gaping cavern where a warm heart used to beat. "You begged for  _my_  life?" He repeated, his mouth parted in shock. Emori's face was flushed and she wouldn't look at him. Closing the distance between them, Murphy gripped her face between his hands and crashed his lips to hers. For the first time in this God forsaken life, someone  _pled_  for him instead of tearing him down, hanging him, and casting him aside. Murphy dug his fingers into the strands of her dark hair, inhaling the sweet coconut scent of her skin.

At first, Emori was too stunned to react. Murphy assaulted her senses, making her feel weak in the knees. Yet he would not let her fall. His arms wrapped around her as he pulled her toward the pallet. One part of her was screaming for him to go faster, while the other knew the danger of what they were doing. "Wait," Emori begged.

"Shit," Murphy let go of her, putting as much distance between them as he could. "Emori, I shouldn't have—"

"Quiet," Emori shushed him. "It is not that I do not want what you offer. However…I am the daughter of the King. If he found out that I gave myself to you, I fear you would not be safe here anymore. Already he is wary of your presence…"

Murphy scrubbed a hand over his jaw, "Yeah, I'm not exactly popular with fathers who have hot daughters…" He chuckled darkly. "There's just one problem with your logic, sweetheart."

"And what is that?" Emori raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't give a shit about this place or what your father wants or the right thing to do…I only care about what  _you_  want, Emori." In the blink of an eye, Emori launched herself into his arms. A smile slid over Murphy's face as their mouths met once more. Her body pressed against his caused the blood in his veins to boil and his stomach to tighten with need. When she pulled away from him, he nearly groaned…until he realized that she needed the space to divest herself of the clothing she wore.

Emori did not wear the cloth cap to keep her hair from getting in the way when she was out in the desert. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulders as she peeled away the tunic she wore to reveal a simple bra beneath. The tan pants she wore slid down her legs easily as she stood before Murphy, bathed in the soft firelight. She moved to cover her nakedness when he reached for her again and kissed her everywhere from her lips, down the curve of her neck, then kneeling reverently as his hot mouth trailed down her body. Emori's hands slid through his hair and he turned, lavishing attention over the way it set her apart from everyone else.

Pressing herself tighter against John, Emori felt emotion clog her throat at the tenderness he showed her. It didn't matter to him that she was different; he would never cast her aside. Sliding to her knees, her tongue slid into his mouth as she pushed him onto the cool ground beneath them bodies. Easing his pants away with minimal struggling, Emori straddled Murphy. "You're fucking  _perfect_ ," Murphy grunted as her fingernails trailed down his chest.

Emori paused, her spine straightening, "No—"

"To me, you are," Murphy interrupted, rolling so that she was on the bottom and he was poised at her center. "You're gorgeous and I don't want to hear another word on the subject." Before she could argue, he kissed her until all the fight died away and she wrapped herself around him. Teasing against her entrance, he moaned into her mouth as she arched against him. In one swift movement, he filled her. Emori's head fell back as she gasped to find her breath after it had been stolen from her. Murphy had never felt so powerful in his entire life.

The pace was slow at first but neither of them tolerated that well. Emori wrapped her legs tightly around John as he rocked inside of her. She enveloped him so perfectly, it felt as if she was made to fit only him. In turn, Emori held on for dear life as the tidal wave of bliss rose steady inside of her until it was too much. The powerful wave crashed over her and kept coming as she screamed his name to the heavens. Unleashing himself within her, Murphy collapsed on top of Emori and laid his head between her breasts to listen to the pounding of her heart.

Smoothing Murphy's hair gently, she chuckled softly. Murphy glanced at her, "What's so funny?"

"I have pictured this for several nights," Emori admitted. "But in my dreams, I was always on the top…"

Murphy groaned softly, his erection already twitching again at the thought of her riding him. "Tell you what," he kissed her swollen lips, his thumb tracing over the tattoo on her cheek, "Whatever you want, whenever you want, Emori. I'll give to you."

Emori rocked her hips suddenly, pushing Murphy back against the floor. This time they made love, she rode him until was the one who screamed. Murphy held her tightly in his embrace, her head resting against his shoulder. "Sweetheart, you're going to be the death of me…" He murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head.

"Why do you say that?" Emori asked softly, meeting his gaze once more.

"You've given me my life," Murphy whispered softly. "Only you have the power to take it away now." Emori held him tighter then, cuddling against his chest. A rumbling sigh emanated from his chest. The City of Light was fraught with uncertainty and danger, but with Emori at his side, he knew one thing for sure: John Murphy was finally  _home_.


End file.
